


i'll thank my lucky stars

by gudetama (elementary)



Series: say you won't let go [4]
Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: Alpha Newt, Alpha Newt Scamander, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Kissing, M/M, Making Out, Omega Original Percival Graves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-07
Updated: 2018-02-07
Packaged: 2019-03-14 21:27:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,254
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13598739
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elementary/pseuds/gudetama
Summary: Five kinds of kisses between Newt and Percival





	i'll thank my lucky stars

**Author's Note:**

> There's nothing else that can describe what this is, lol. Just making good on that promise from a while back of doing a little drabble on a series of kisses that Newt and Percival share.
> 
> The reason for the 'Mature' rating is because I think some descriptions are slightly more explicit than my usual and I wasn't too sure if it would fall under 'Teen'. They don't even get to foreplay, really.
> 
> Enjoy!
> 
> EDIT: [PLEASE LOOK AT THIS AMAZING ART HERE](http://sssilkworms.tumblr.com/post/170787337313/five-kisses-via-ill-thank-my-lucky-stars-by) I am dead and honoured aslkdgj;lsjd

**— Reconciliation**

 

“I don’t know why I even bother anymore,” is the first thing his mate says as soon as he enters the ward.

Newt eyes him evenly. “Then don’t,” he snipes, feeling the pull at his torn lip and a throb under his bruised eye.

“Hush, Newton,” Percival returns in that specific tone of his.

Still, Newt has no guilt whatsoever, not for this. That wanker had deserved everything he got and more. He should be glad that Newt didn’t bring out the creatures before they pulled him off the man, leaving him just shy of a bloody pulp. As unusually passive he might be for an alpha, he can’t stand it when another speaks ill of his husband in a professional capacity or otherwise. No one knows better—except for the aurors, perhaps— how hard Percival works and that he more than deserves every ounce of respect for that alone, never mind his character. Though much better now, his gender had been a source of internal conflict and shame for quite some time, and thankfully, most of the department had encouraged him wholeheartedly after the reveal.

But there are others, people who don’t know the amazing person that is Percival Graves, blinded by their bigoted beliefs. No one can tell Newt that Percival should go bend himself over a surface and stay under his alpha and expect him to agree. Oh no, Newt will disagree with every cell in his body until they get it through their heads.

His mate can clearly smell his turmoil and watches him with an unreadable expression. Then he approaches where Newt sits upon the edge of the infirmary bed slowly, one deliberate step after another. Newt still tenses, however, on edge from the residual anger and would prefer that Percival leave him alone, not see him in such a sorry state. But Percival smells pleasant, increasingly so as he closes the distance, and once within range—right between Newt’s knees—he takes one of Newt’s hands still crusted with drying blood. He brings it up to his face, kisses the palm of it and nuzzles for a second before placing it at the skin of his own throat—the top buttons of Percival’s shirt are undone, he belatedly realizes—where Newt can feel the heat that radiates off his mate. Newt’s fingers twitch against the soft flesh and his breath catches as slowly but surely, his omega bares that vulnerable part of himself.

“You are on the couch tonight, Newton,” Percival starts calmly, “but I’m sure you knew this already.”

Newt nods reluctantly, the tension dissipating as the presence and proximity of his mate calms him further.

“I’m sorry,” Newt mutters eventually, because he caused his mate trouble and that more than anything weighs on his heart.

He’s still learning, to control his instincts, to not become what he detests. To be civil towards such vile people because Percival can handle it just fine, is capable of much more severe retribution for those who are careless with their attitude.

“I know,” Percival says, a touch softer.

A hand nudges under his chin and Newt lifts it obediently; the kiss bestowed upon him tastes like forgiveness and reassurance, and Newt’s eyes close as he receives it, ignores the sting of injuries. He exhales happily at the contact and his fingers twitch again when a hand covers his own against Percival’s neck, trapped by surrounding warmth. He’s silently encouraged to touch, to feel, so moves that hand to cup the side of his mate’s neck and stroke lightly behind his ear while Percival’s own slides down to his wrist and grips it.

It’s over too soon—only a couple brief ones—and Newt’s prevented from following when Percival pulls away. As soon as his mate does up his collar again, the healer comes back right then and exchanges nods with his mate.

“Please take care of my reckless husband,” Percival says to Healer Eleanor, but watches Newt as he does.

“Don’t I always?” she replies with her usual smile.

“I will find you after; be a good alpha, hm?” and Percival brushes the backs of his fingers along Newt’s cheek, gives him a smile, and leaves the room.

“How adorable,” Healer Eleanor remarks with a laugh. “Still so smitten.”

Newt ducks his head in embarrassment but can’t help the pleased smile.

 

 

**— Passion**

 

The door slams behind them and Percival is pushed against it, his alpha’s mouth latching onto an already exposed part of his throat. Percival groans in response at the hard suction and his hands climb into the curls and fists them lightly, not sure whether to pull Newt’s head closer or pull him up. Teeth set themselves against his skin and Percival nearly chokes on a breath.

“Do it,” he gasps. “Do it, god—”

The rest of the words get lost in a whine when Newt bites down, and the rush of pleasure at the claim has his knees buckling. But his alpha holds him up just fine, hands at his waist, and Percival knocks his head back against the door and bares his neck further instinctively, feels his mate growl against it. _Fuck_. He feels Newt’s mouth slide upwards, sucking little kisses along the way that makes him shiver. Then Newt is at the point of his chin, giving it a nip before finally reaching his destination.

It’s hot and wet, lips sliding and tongues curling and Percival’s mind clouds with the heat of his body's arousal, feels a familiar response between his legs. Every breath and noise that leaves him, Newt drinks it in like it’s his oxygen and the absent thought leaves Percival even more breathless. He has to tear himself away to get some air for himself, too, manages to coherently think it hilariously unfair that Newt can go without it for longer than he can. Sometime during the many kisses they shared, Percival’s arms had wound themselves around his mate’s shoulders and he clings to them now as he shakes and drips.

“Bed,” Newt suggests low and seductive against his ear.

“I’m not sure we’ll make it that far,” Percival admits, and smiles at Newt’s hum of agreement.

They don’t make it that far.

 

 

**— Good morning**

 

Upon opening his eyes, Newt is treated to the sight of the bare length of his gorgeous mate. His gaze roams from strong shoulders down a straight spine and over pert cheeks, muscles still under smooth and scarred skin. He must have rolled away sometime in the middle of the night because his back was to Newt’s chest before they fell asleep.

So, Newt follows.

He moves just close enough to smell Percival and feel the radiating warmth, not quite enough to touch; no one should voluntarily wake Percival, ever.

It isn’t a long wait until his mate shifts, and with each movement the trickle of sun through the curtains highlights different parts of his body. The covers slide off all the way and leave him wonderfully nude. He lets out adorable sighs and soft noises as he drifts awake and they soon turn to something disgruntled.

“Coffee,” is the first thing he croaks out, plaintive.

“Good morning to you, too, darling,” Newt replies cheerfully.

Percival turns just enough to narrow his eyes over the shoulder, though his mussed hair and sleep-slack expression ruin the intended effect.

And Newt can’t help himself, leans up on his elbows and closes in—

“Go brush your teeth, Newt, damn it—”

—captures his husband’s soft lips and feels the prickly stubble against his chin, relishes in the contact.

“That was gross,” he laughs as he withdraws, most definitely in need of brushing.

Percival rolls his eyes as he fully turns to face Newt. He strikes fast, catching Newt behind his neck and pulls him back, slips his tongue into Newt’s mouth open on a yelp. He licks the roof of it and makes Newt shiver hard once, releases him just as quick.

“How is that for gross,” Percival smirks. “Coffee, please.”

“Only if you go brush your teeth—”

“ _Now_.”

“Yes, love.”

 

 

**— Farewell**

 

Newt’s face shifts ceaselessly, from nerves to excitement, worry then sadness, back to anticipation. But it settles on distress when they do a final call for passengers to board.

“I don’t think—”

Percival hushes him and squeezes his hand, keeps his face relaxed. “Yes, you can.”

“I can’t,” Newt whispers earnestly, eyes glistening.

“Newt,” Percival sighs but his lips twitch. “It’s only a month. And you’ve had half a year to prepare for it.”

“I’m not ready yet,” Newt stubbornly frowns and Merlin, his mate is going to cry.

Percival tugs him in by the coat lapels and presses a hard kiss onto his mouth and breathes in Newt’s startled gasp, swallows his whimper. When he pulls away, he hears  thump of the suitcase dropping and shuts his eyes again as he’s drawn in again by hands cupping either side of his face, head angled to meet in an even deeper kiss. And Percival lets his husband take what he needs—a memory, a taste, comfort and reassurance—until they’re panting against one another’s lips and Newt gives him one last lick along the seam. And he comes back a little softer, calmer, mouth gently pursing against Percival’s, again, then again, and sighs. Newt caresses the lobe of his right ear between thumb and forefinger, kisses the shell of the other and scents behind it, noses softly down the column of his neck and inhales deeply.

Percival holds him close by the waist and also takes one last whiff for himself for the days ahead when the bedcovers or an article of clothing will have to do. His husband steps back too soon.

“Okay,” Newt breathes and picks up his case again, grips the handle firmly. “Okay.”

“They’re going to leave without you,” Percival remarks dryly like his heart doesn’t pulse with the ache of already missing his mate.

Newt grins a little crooked. “I’ll be going, then. See you in a bit, love.”

And he turns and walks, glances back a couple times before climbing on board the ship. Newt waves in wide arcs as the ship leaves and Percival returns it in smaller motions.

“I’ll be here,” he thinks aloud to no one, the one who should hear the words no longer by his side.

 

 

**— Home**

 

A few others are still in the department finishing up their own assignments when Newt arrives, including Abernathy who had given him a smile and wave before pointing him towards the office with a roll of her eyes. Should have figured, Newt thinks as he nods at her and turns into the hallway. It’s a good thing that he came here first instead of their house, because his mate wouldn’t be himself if he wasn’t working late even if there isn’t work to be done.

There’s no response to his knocking on the door which is strange because Newt hears murmurs inside. A meeting, perhaps? In spite of his eagerness, Newt waits a whole two minutes before trying again.

The murmurs stop. The door opens.

“Oh!”

“Hi, Newt,” greets Mathews. “Back already? Time sure flies, hm.”

She says everything in such a casual manner as if Newt is back from a simple day trip instead of month of world exploration and it nearly confuses him.

“Y-yes, I suppose?” Newt asks more than replies.

“You look well,” she muses, then steps aside. “In you go.”

And then he finds himself pushed inside with the door closing behind him, meeting the wide-eyed gaze of his mate whose hand is frozen in the middle of petting Lady on his shoulders. Percival is as he last remembers him—beautiful, well-dressed, stern-faced and hard at work—and it releases something in his chest even though rationally there likely wouldn’t have been any radical changes within a mere month’s time.

“Hello, Percy,” Newt says, feeling awkward for some reason.

His fingers itch to hold his husband close and he wants take a big whiff of the scent he missed dearly even as he enjoyed every moment of his trip. It was all he thought about outside of learning new mating habits and seasonal behaviours, witnessing the birth of new life and making new discoveries. Whether Percival thought as much of him, too, as he passed each day.

Percival slowly gets up, still not having a said a word, a strange tension in his stance. Even slower, he sets Lady down gently onto the desk before stepping around it. His strides are purposeful as he heads towards Newt and his expression unreadable, and Newt has two seconds to wonder what’s wrong before he’s pushed back against the door, suitcase being taken out of his hand and floated over to the side.

Before Percival reaches up to his face and pulls Newt down, claiming his mouth.

And as soon as their lips meet, his mate sighs and melts into him, and Newt wraps his arms completely around the man to hold him tighter so that they might as well be one. Newt returns the kiss eagerly, hungering for the taste within, the feel of those soft lips giving way to his request. They breathe their yearning and gladness into each other, and it settles deep inside him as he’s grounded by the restored presence of his love.

“I missed you,” Percival murmurs with a shy kind of sincerity when they part, then noses lightly under Newt’s jaw. “Welcome back.”

Newt smiles so wide his cheeks hurt. “I’m home.”


End file.
